


Coffee and Insomnia

by boat_shoes



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Detective Inej Ghafa, Detective Kaz Brekker, F/M, Mostly Gen, Mostly just Kaz going crazy, Murder Mystery, people die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:55:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23401846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boat_shoes/pseuds/boat_shoes
Summary: “If I solve this case, it will be for myself and the rest of society. It won’t be for you, Kaz.”“How honorable. Peacekeeper even behind closed doors.” somehow, when he said it, it didn’t sound like a compliment.
Relationships: Kaz Brekker & Jesper Fahey, Kaz Brekker & Nina Zenik, Kaz Brekker/Inej Ghafa
Comments: 42
Kudos: 127





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first attempt at like a published fanfic, so don't kill me. lol.

17 January, 2020, 12:46 a.m

“Kaz Brekker: devourer of hearts, devil of the night.”

Kaz let out a low, husky chuckle. “Is that what all the scumbags call me?”

“No. That’s just me.” Jesper grinned, bright and genuine. He was sitting on a bench outside Dollar Tree, basking in the neon lights.

Kaz had just rolled up in a blue and white cop car. He was nearly done with his shift. All there was left was paperwork. He put the car into park, and turned the key, before hopping out. Jesper tapped the bench next to him expectantly. Kaz looked at the empty space, then looked at his friend. Friend wasn’t a word that dropped loosely from his lips. He didn’t know when exactly Jesper had earned the title but it hadn’t come easy. 

When Kaz didn’t immediately sit down beside him, Jesper smiled. “I know you’re a blue-suit now, but that doesn’t mean you have to arrest yourself for sitting with me.”

“I can’t stay long,” Kaz said, by way of explanation. It was both the truth, and not the truth. He was expected back at the station, but he wasn’t needed there.

Jesper looked at him, in the cool, convincing manner of someone used to getting what he pleased. Kaz crossed the distance between his car and the bench, and sat.

“You look terrible,” Jesper commented.

“Thanks,” Kaz rasped back. “So do you.”

Jesper quirked his lips. “No. I don’t actually.” he paused for a second and Kaz didn’t fill the silence. Their breath came out in white puffs against the cold air. December had brought snow, and January had brought more of it. The snow had mostly melted but it was still ‘sweater weather’, as Nina called it.

“Oh!” Jesper said, brash against the previous quiet. 

Kaz started slightly, but didn’t flinch. “What now?” he muttered.

“I have something to show you.” Jesper turned his face down to his coat pockets, emptying them out in search of something. A series of crumpled tissues spilled out along with an untouched box of cigarettes. Kaz knew for a fact that Jesper didn’t smoke, so he must be holding them for someone. Either that, or he was selling them now. Kaz could arrest him for that -- not that he wanted to. Jesper cursed under his breath for a few seconds longer before landing on what he was searching for.

Then, he gleefully pulled it out and brandished it before them both. It was a round poker chip. No, not a poker chip. The ridges weren’t right for that. 

“You’re sober? Didn’t know you had a problem with alcohol,” Kaz jibed.

Jesper huffed. “It’s not for alcohol.”

“I know, I know.” he reached out and took the chip between his fingers. “How long?”

“Six weeks.”

“And it’s not just because you were banned from the casino?”

Jesper shook his head eagerly. “Nope.”

“Well congratulations, then. I didn’t even know they passed out chips to people who were off gambling.”

He laughed. “Eh. It’s a little ironic, but the group’s nice enough.” He pocketed the chip again and then nodded to Kaz’s car. “Where’s the partner? Trouble in paradise?” 

Kaz felt his expression go blank, almost automatically. It was a habit one picked up when they talked to liars enough. Jesper was a shitty gambler though, so it didn’t matter how good his poker face was. “I told her she should go back to the office early and that I could finish rounds.”

“Ah,” Jesper said. “The old silent treatment. I’ve never received it of course.” he winked.

Kaz shook his head. “Detective Ghafa and I are fine. Thank you for your concern.” 

He stood to leave and Jesper called out to him, “Hey! Wait. Sorry, sorry. I know you’re all sensitive about your ‘not-girlfriend’, but I wasn’t trying to piss you off.”

Kaz sneered. “Jesper, you’ve seen me pissed off. Do you really think this is what it looks like?”

“No, but--”

“I’ve got to go handle the other children. I’ll see you around, Fahey.”

He could practically hear Jesper’s pouty face, even as he drove away from the Dollar Tree. 

He made it three blocks. He left the parking lot. He rounded the corner at the donut shop. He passed K-mart and the little strip mall that he avoided at all costs. And then his car radio came on. “10-35. Outward call from 1477 Rose Street. Possible homicide--”

Kaz clicked the receiver, said “10-4” and put on his sirens. He knew the way to Rose street. He had no idea the scene would be empty when he got there. No paramedics, no fire department, nothing.

He pulled over in front of 1477’s driveway, and put the car into park. It was a little after 1:00 in the morning, but something about the way the houses loomed in the shadows made it seem like this was a time to be awake. He felt electric.

He strode to the door, hand on his gun. He knocked once, nothing. “Police. Open up.” Tried the lock, nothing. “I’m coming in.” he burst through the door.

He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but this wasn’t it. There was blood everywhere. It was soaked into the plush white carpet. It was splattered across the eggshell colored walls. It had dyed a hideous red armoire even redder. 

In the middle of it all, lay a body, suspended on a glass coffee table, her legs hanging over one end, and arms over the sides. A teenage boy was kneeling beside her, crying quietly. His face was all red and splotchy, like everything else. His hands were covered in her blood, but something about the way he recoiled from it, made Kaz think he’d arrived after the fact.

“Stand and put your hands behind your head,” Kaz barked, because protocol was protocol.

The boy didn’t even look up, he was transfixed by the corpse. His eyes were glazed over. His hands were shaking violently.

Kaz knew the look well. He’d seen it in both victims and assailants. He’d seen it in himself.

Kaz muttered a quick, “10-23” into his radio, even though he wasn’t exactly following by-book instructions at the moment and stepped forwards. “Look at me.” 

The boy didn’t move his gaze from the body.

“I’m not in a big hurry or anything, but I have a job to do, and you’re looking fairly guilty right now, with your hands stuck on the victim. So, look at me and stop leaving your fingerprints where no one wants to find your fingerprints,” he hissed.

The boy glanced up with big, welling blue eyes. “I... I can’t move.”

“You’re in shock. That’s normal,” Kaz said, forcing the words. He was being frighteningly diplomatic here. If Inej was in the room she would be glowing with pride. “Tell me about yourself. What’s your name?”

“Wylan,” the boy choked out. “Wylan Van Eck.”

“And Wylan, what are your… hobbies?” the word sounded weird in his mouth. Kaz didn’t do small talk.

Wylan sucked in a breath. “I play music, sometimes. I’m dyslexic but I still like to read so I listen to audiobooks. I’m a sophomore at the state university.”  
So, not a teenager. Kaz didn’t know if he was becoming less observant or if Wylan just had chronic baby face. 

“And is there anyone else in the house?” Kaz asked, rather impatiently.

Wylan shook his head. “No. I don’t think so.”

“Wonderful. Can you move now?”

The boy shifted slightly as if to test it out and then nodded. “yeah.” he drew his shaky hands away, at an agonizing pace. As soon as they weren’t touching the corpse he flew to his feet, breaking the spell. 

Kaz peeked through a window to make sure there was backup coming. There was. Two more district cars had arrived.  
He recognized the occupants as well as the vehicles.

He lightly pushed Wylan out through the door and walked him to the ambulance so he could talk to the paramedics first. Then turned to meet two familiar figures.  
Nina greeted him by way of a smirk and a half wave, before resuming conversation with Inej. He stopped walking a few feet away from the pair.

“What should we expect inside?” Inej asked.

Kaz smiled tightly and humorlessly. “Ah, but that takes away all the fun of guessing.”

On any usual night, Inej would scowl and keep asking questions, but she didn’t. It shouldn’t hurt. Nothing should hurt him at this point, realistically. He thought he’d guarded himself better than that. But last night on the roof had hurt and the aftermath hurt even more.

He forcefully cleared his head. They needed to focus on the case. “It was the boy over there who made the call.”

Nina’s eyebrows shot up, almost comically. “Wylan Van Eck?” her voice raised an octave. 

“You know him?”

“You don’t!? His father’s a millionaire. He’s only a few years younger than us. Just think of how many waffles one could buy with that money.” 

She was getting the gooey eyes, so Kaz stared at them and waited until the atmosphere became serious again. “Right. Do your magic. Get the report. Inej can check out the inside.”

“And since when are you captain?”

Kaz grimaced. “I delegate. If you don’t like how I do it, you can try on your own.”

“Yes, sir," Nina said wryly. The two of them dispersed.

Kaz followed Nina at a slightly slower pace. He would have interrogated the kid himself, but Officer Zenik tended to have a lighter touch. One which he both envied and mistrusted. Wylan was sitting in the back of the ambulance. Two of the paramedics were done with him. The other was still sitting next to him and talking in a low, sweet voice. Nina met eyes with her and smiled instantly. Kaz understood why. Genya Safin was essentially her estranged twin sister. The medic smiled back, nodded at the pair of them, then whispered something to Wylan and slipped away. Nina took her place easily while Kaz stood at a bit of a distance, leaning one side against the closed ambulance door. Wylan stared at his tennis shoes. His strawberry blonde hair was pressed up against the side of the car and his knees were tucked into his chest. Nina sat quietly beside him, waiting. It made something angry swell inside of Kaz. Something angry, impatient, and untameable. It was the thing that held him back from collecting police reports. The last time he’d tried to ask a witness questions, he’d gotten so frustrated he’d given the girl a panic attack. He was good at getting information out of people. He really was. But, he wasn’t good at being nice about it. Nina was.

She waited a few more moments then said, “Before I became a cop, I went to military school. I was ready to join the army after I graduated.”

Wylan shifted slightly as she talked. It clearly wasn’t what he’d expected her to say. “What happened?” he asked when she didn’t immediately continue.

“Well, I met someone. He was kind of caught up in the wrong sort of way at the time. He believed a lot of bullshit which I didn’t agree with. He had a lot of prejudice and wasn’t afraid to act out on it. The people he was with hurt me and hurt someone that I was close with as well. But, I grew stronger for it. We spent some time together and I changed his mind. It was quite enlightening for me. We grew closer. Quite a lot closer, and then he was killed.”

Wylan’s eyes blew wide. “What?”

Nina had a faraway look. Kaz wanted her to quit talking about her dead boyfriend and move the questions along. He, of course, didn’t say this out loud.

“I’m saying,” Nina continued, clearing her throat. “That after that, I grew up. I became a cop so that I could save lives instead of take them away. I moved on. My trauma got me to where I am today. I’m not saying that it wasn’t hard, because it was. I’m saying that it’s okay to admit the things that happened to you earlier today. It’s okay for you to think about them and talk about them. If you can, I would like you to talk about them to us, because we can help. Okay?”

Wylan nodded. He looked a little bit shaken. Kaz didn’t blame him. Nina had a comforting effect, sure, but Kaz had seen every angle of her and knew that she could be scary when she wanted to be. Wylan seemed to understand that.

“The victim’s name is Alina Starkov,” he said softly. “She was my best friend.” he took in a shuddering breath and Nina put a hand on his shoulder. “I’d just gotten up to get a glass of water. I went downstairs, clicked on the lights, and she was in the living room. There was no one besides me home. My dad is on a business trip. I’m home for the weekend. I go back to school tomorrow morning.” he stopped talking and wiped tears from his face with a white handkerchief.

“Is there anything else you’d like us to know?” Nina asked.

He paused for a second before shaking his head. Kaz noticed that pause, that stutter of something in his expression… guilt?

“Alright,” Nina said, patting him on the shoulder. “Did the paramedics clear you?”

“Yes.”

“We’re going to contact your parents and let them know what happened. Ideally you’ll come back to the station with Detective Brekker until they get back in town.”

Wylan just kept nodding.

Kaz caught Nina’s eye and jerked his chin at her.

“I’m going to go talk to him right now because he’s throwing a hissy fit for some reason. I’ll see you later, Wylan.”

She left the ambulance, in her usual not-graceful graceful way and joined Kaz on the other side. 

“He’s not telling us something,” Kaz said as soon as she got around.

“Yeah I know, Brekker. What do you want me to do about it?” she raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow. 

“You’re the one who’s supposed to be an expert at these things. Talk to him.”

“Kaz, he’s in shock. He just lost his best friend and he’s not exactly in the right headspace for a full on interrogation. If you want to make him a suspect, go ahead. Then you can grill him all you want. But right now he’s a witness. He’s the person who found the body. So don’t talk to me like I’m not doing everything I can. If I do anything else, he’s more likely to shut down than to tell me anything.”

Kaz raked a hand through his hair. “Yeah, fine. I understand, Zenik. You’re protecting his delicate youth.”

“What can I say, it’s what I do best.” she gave him a little smile, turned, and marched towards a group of cops standing among the house’s hydrangea bushes.

Kaz looked at Wylan with a mixture of frustration and dread. He quickly stamped both of those feelings out before popping his head into the back of the ambulance. “Get up, kid. You’re coming back to the station.”

21, January, 2020, 3:02 a.m

They had been trying to piece it together for four days. He couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t eat. All he could do was stare at scattered papers and newspaper clippings, thinking. Except, at this point he didn’t believe that whatever he was doing with his brain qualified as ‘thinking’. It was just jumbled profanities and images, stuck in a nonsensical loop.

“Why are you awake?” this was expressed with a yawn, by a very bedraggled-looking Inej Ghafa. Her usually close-kept black hair was hanging loose around her shoulders, and her eye bags had never looked deeper.

Kaz and Inej practiced a similar sort of insomnia. But while Inej spent it keeping her body occupied, Kaz spent it keeping his mind occupied.

This case had given him enough to think about for weeks. He hadn’t slept since that night. The others hadn’t noticed at first. He had a habit of staying inexplicably separate from them at times, so it wasn’t exactly unusual. But when this particular reclusive expenditure had prolonged the usual, they’d begun to worry. Specifically Inej. That was why she was here no doubt: looking for him.

He didn’t need her worry. He didn’t want it. All he wanted was to be able to think. He was so close, so damn close. Every time he looked at the information -- the pictures of Van Eck manor and the samples taken -- he chased himself into a new maze.

He was stuck staring at a wall which he couldn’t figure out how to climb.

Inej sat down across from him at the table. Except, unlike a normal person, she didn’t take the chair. She just perched on the edge and swung her boots over it. “Is this everything?” she gestured her hands elegantly over the table. 

He wanted to say ‘no’, because of course it wasn’t everything. If it was everything they’d already have the killer locked in a cell. “Yes,” he said instead. “This is everything we have, Ghafa. Are you going to unravel it for me?” 

She shook her head. “If I solve this case, it will be for myself and the rest of society. It won’t be for you, Kaz.” 

“How honorable. Peacekeeper even behind closed doors.” somehow, when he said it, it didn’t sound like a compliment.

She didn’t thank him for it either. She just stayed still, watching him. She looked like the girl in the pictures on the table. The same girl whose face he couldn’t get out of his head; the same girl whose eyes were glassy and eternally apathetic. 

He moved with jerking angry motions as he pulled the clippings towards him. He didn’t really need to look. Their faces were all hauntingly familiar by now. 

“How long has it been since you’ve slept?” Inej asked, like it was an easy question to answer.

Kaz didn’t humor her. He studied the girl in the pictures instead. She was fair skinned and freckled, with relatively dainty features, but you couldn’t tell that from the post-mortem photographs. They all showed the same thing: bloodied skin pulled taut until it was thin and plasticy. Her mouth had been altered after death. The autopsy concluded that the first thing the killer had done was implant metal props into her cheeks, spreading her mouth wider into an eternal, soundless, shout. The second thing they’d done was given her a red shade of lipstick which matched her blood. 

The gaping hole in her chest was filled with wilted rose petals. The dress she wore, all silk and taffeta, was marred by stray internal organs. It appeared as if someone had reached inside, plucked them out and decorated her with them.

Inej cleared her throat, ripping Kaz back to reality. Not that reality was much of a thing for him anymore. “How long?” she asked again.

“48 hours,” he said hoarsely.

“Since you’ve slept?” she clarified.

He didn’t respond. 

“Lovely. Do you think you can try?”

He didn’t respond.

“Do you want me to call the others in early?”

He didn’t respond.

“Do you want coffee?”

At this, he let out a final-sounding sigh and pushed himself away from the desk. “I find that the coffee here is less than satisfactory. But,” he said, forcing a humorless smile. “Whatever will settle your burning desire to be helpful, dear Inej.”

She slipped her feet to the floor and then into the kitchenette adjacent to the department’s offices. “I’m not being helpful. I’m being practical. You’re no use to us if you can’t think straight.”

Kaz could never think straight, not anymore, and Inej wasn’t helping. She was a living monument to all the things he couldn’t have. That had been made certain five nights ago on a shingled rooftop. She’d opened her chest and plucked out her heart just like the girl in the photos. He hadn’t been able to return the favor.

Hot liquid was poured into a mug and then dainty fingers were setting it down in front of him at the table. “Drink,” she ordered.

He listened because there wasn’t any reason not to. It tasted god-awful but he hadn’t expected any different. “It was premeditated,” he began, setting his coffee down with a clack. “It had to be. The killer thought about killing her and they thought about how they would do it. Every single day. Her ghost haunted them, even before she was dead.”

“You sound familiar with the concept,” Inej observed.

Kaz gave her a crooked and humorless smile. “And you’re not?”

She shrugged and leaned back against the corkboard, littered with postings of missing persons and minor criminalities. “I didn’t deny that.”

He held up an image of the girl from a side angle, her mouth ajar, teeth ripped out. “I don’t think the killer knew her.” 

“If they didn’t know her,” Inej began. “Why were they haunted by her?”

It was the question that was at the forefront of his mind. It danced on the precipice between being answered and driving him to insanity. “She was close to someone that they were close to.” he knew that much had to be true.

“Intimately close?” Inej asked, her eyebrows bunching. “So it was jealousy?”

Kaz shook his head. “I don’t think it was jealousy in the traditional sense of the word. I mean, the killer was close to this theoretical third party, but they didn’t murder Alina Starkov because they were jealous of her -- or jealous of her proximity.”

“How do you know?”

Kaz averted his eyes, refusing to catch hers. She hated this part of working with him, the part where he guessed and then preached it like it was irreversibly correct. He couldn’t exactly help it. It was how he solved a case. “I don’t,” he answered, finally. Then covered his mouth with the rim of his coffee mug.

Inej kept staring at him until he was saved by a sound from the corridor. Footsteps. Kaz crept his hands over his gun. Inej jumped to her feet, and without a sound, tiptoed closer to the entrance.

When the door opened, it was along with the words, “Morning, idiots!” Jesper was standing in the doorframe, holding a big white box.

“How did you get past security?” Kaz asked, partially surprised and partially curious.

“A gentleman never tells his secrets,” Jesper replied, with an exaggerated wink. He slid into the seat across from Kaz and plopped the box down on the table. “Stop acting like I’m a criminal. I brought you breakfast.”

“You are a criminal,” Inej pointed out. She was smiling as she said it though. “I’ve put you in a jail cell enough times to know that. Would you like me to pull out your record?”

“No, no,” Jesper said, putting his hands up in surrender. “Just take the donuts and go.”

“Donuts?” Inej popped up the lid of the white box to reveal rows of pastries. “You know that’s a stereotype, right?”

“Cops and donuts?” Jesper laughed. “No, of course not.”

Inej picked out a glazed one and went back to the kitchen, presumably to get herself tea.

Kaz slumped back in his chair, holding the coffee mug against his lower lip but not really drinking. He was getting a sore throat, probably coming down with a cold from lack of sleep. 

“How’s the case going, champ?” Jesper asked.

Kaz peered up at him with narrowed eyes. “Splendidly. We’re seconds away from catching the killer.”

“Really?”

“No.”

“Oh.” 

Inej came back into the room, carting her tea and dose of sugar. She sat down again, across from him, but now at a slight angle so she could face Jesper as well. There was a moment of silence, interrupted only by Inej’s chewing and Kaz’s sipping.  
Inej finally broke it with, “Why are you here, Jesper? It’s 3:00 in the morning.”

Jesper checked his watch. “It’s 3:57 actually, and I’m just visiting my favorite detectives. Where’s the flaw in that?”

Kaz and Inej shared a look. She said, “the flaw is that you’ve never just casually dropped by before, especially not this early. Presumably there’s a reason.”

Jesper looked between them, reached into the box, and pulled out a donut. He looked at nothing in particular as he ate. Kaz and Inej both looked at him, expectantly. When he finished the donut and started to reach into the box for another, Kaz’s gloved hand shot out to catch his wrist. 

“Explain,” Kaz growled.

“Okay, okay,” Jesper grumbled. He pulled the gambling-aholics chip from his pocket and set it in the middle of the table. “I don’t deserve this.”

“You went to a casino?”

“I tried. I couldn’t. There were rows of cop cars outside. They said it had become a crime scene. So I drove to the donut shop instead, and then I drove here.” 

Inej grappled with her pocket radio, switched it on, and set it on the table. Immediately, a stream of communication played. Inej’s face went two shades paler as she listened. “Kaz. It’s our killer.” 

“What!?” he stood, abruptly, knocking his chair back as he did so. “What’s the address?”

Inej sputtered on the numbers. 

Kaz didn’t have time for this. “Jesper! What Casino?”

“Northwest,” he choked out. 

“Thank you.” Kaz grabbed his keys from the table and was out the door in seconds. 

He could hear Inej yelling a belated, “Kaz! Wait!” from inside, but he ignored her. She was his partner. That meant they helped each other. If she wanted to help him, she could damn well start walking. He plopped into the driver’s seat, turned the key in the ignition, and threw the car into drive.  
It was fifteen minutes to the casino, but Kaz made it in ten with the sirens on. Jesper hadn’t been kidding about the rows of police cars. The casino parking lot was filled with people. Apparently most of the hotel guests had been evacuated at this point and were standing in the cold. They were huddled like penguins, in scarves and down jackets, with phones pressed to their ears.

Nina greeted him as he got out of the car. He had no idea how she looked so awake at 4:00 in the morning, but he didn’t really care. “Tell me what happened.”

Nina grimaced. “You’re not going to like it.”

“And?”

If she was anyone besides Nina, she probably would have sighed. “It was the same method. Death by strangulation. All mutilation of the body was post-mortem.”

“And how exactly does that make it the same killer?” Kaz asked. 

“Kaz,” she said softly. “His organs were replaced with poker chips.”

Kaz heard the words. His brain went through all the regular cognitive functions it did to turn sounds into meaning. Yet somehow he found himself repeating the sentence in his head a few times before it finally registered. “Rose petals and poker chips,” he muttered finally, not to anyone in particular. Then, “Were they red?”

“What?”

“The chips,” Kaz clarified, a familiar impatience creeping into his tone. “Were they red?”

“Yes.”

Kaz was moving before the word left her mouth.

The inside of the casino was dense with people and noise. One section of the gambling floor had been closed off completely but the rest of it was still being cleared of confused, slightly inebriated, guests. Kaz brushed past them, not caring if he came off as rude. When he saw the body, surrounded by forensics and photographers, he felt a bit nauseous. There was no ‘getting used’ to corpses. You could detach yourself emotionally from them as much as possible, but seeing someone mutilated on top of a poker table, put out on display, was something else entirely.  
It was unbearably human.

\- - -

“27 years old. A musician in the local orchestra. Graduated from music school. Recently he was teaching students from home,” Kaz listed off. Inej was sitting on the table again. Nina was snacking on the donuts Jesper had brought.

Everyone else was doing paperwork and ignoring Kaz. Except of course, Kuwei Yul-bo. He was the head of forensics apparently. Kaz had never really paid mind to him before he was assigned this case. Now the guy was showing up everywhere. His amber eyes were fixed on Kaz as he talked, and when he stopped talking, the boy actually started scowling.

“Do you have a problem you’d like to share with the class, Yul-bo?” Kaz snapped.

“What was his connection to the casino?” he asked. “With the other victim, she was found in her best friend’s living room. But, he didn’t gamble did he? I just don’t get it.”

“How about,” Kaz said, letting anger creep into his tone. “You do your job, and I do mine. Sound good? Great. Anything else?”

Nina caught herself on a laugh and made it sound like she was choking instead. “Actually,” she said when she was done. “I’ve been talking to Wylan. The victim was his music teacher.”

“So that makes both corpses connected to Wylan. Good to know.”

Kuwei was fidgeting again.

Kaz narrowed his eyes in the boy’s direction. “Do you need to be excused?”

“No, that’s quite alright.”

“Right. Then that’s a wrap. Zenik, can I talk to you?”

Nina grinned. “Course’.” she pushed the donuts slightly further away down the table, then hopped out of her chair and crossed the room to him. Kaz led her into the break room. “What’s up?”

“Wylan, he’s still in protective custody right?”

“Yeah.”

“I need to talk to him.”

Nina raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “Can you do that without making him cry?”

“Depends.”

“Kaz! I’m serious. He’s not going to tell us anything if he feels threatened.”

Yeah, yeah. I’ll spare his precious feelings. You know more about him than I do. Is there anything about his family…?”

“Well. Kuwei,” Nina said, with a shrug.

“What does Yul-bo have to do with -- they’re related!?”

“Half brothers as far as I’ve heard.”

“Is that why he was acting like he’d just done a line in there?”

Nina laughed. “Probably. He’s always been a bit strange though. Actually I think he only just learned he was Van Eck’s son, so the brothers are estranged.”

“Estranged enough to kill each other’s social circles?” Kaz asked.

Her expression turned sober. “It’s possible.”

“I need to talk to Wylan, but after that we’ll bring him in.”

“Got it.”

He turned to leave but was stopped by her hand on his shoulder. He cringed away from the touch and she pulled back apologetically.

“What?” he said, impatiently.

“I’m just glad you’re talking to us again,” she said. “You had us worried for a second. We know how you get when you’re working on a case. You act like you’re the only one who cares and that’s not fair. It drives Inej crazy.”

“Yeah, well it shouldn’t,” he muttered.

She slapped at him lightly with her palm but didn’t actually touch him. He pursed his lips at the gesture. “We care about you, Brekker. So stop jumping into cases and not waiting for us to catch up. We’re stronger as a team.”

“Thanks for the sentiment, Zenik, but save it for the witnesses.” he left her alone in the room and she didn’t follow.

21, January, 2020, 1:00 p.m.

Kaz got another mug of coffee before entering the interrogation room. He didn’t remember the last time he’d slept a full night. Caffeine didn’t seem to be doing its job anymore. He’d nearly drifted off on his lunch break. Inej had come into the break room with a stack of paperwork. She’d sat across from him and talked while she worked. Her voice was unerringly comforting. He’d shut his eyes for a second, and only woke when Inej brushed a finger against his shoulder.

“You should get some sleep. I’ll vouch for you to the captain.”

“I have the interrogation room booked.”

“Kaz, let someone else talk to him,” she argued. “I can, even.”

“I’d really rather, you didn’t. Considering your history with witnesses.” he regretted the words the second they left his mouth, but he didn’t take them back. Part of him still thought she deserved it. 

She stared at him, defiantly. “You don’t mean that.”

“You don’t know me, Inej, and you’re sure as hell not responsible for me.” he left the break room, slamming the glass door behind him. A small collection of beat cops and detectives were staring at him from their desks. He ignored them.

He got coffee. He downed it way too fast, ignoring how it burned his tongue on the first sip, then tossed the container into the trash can outside the interrogation room, without pause in his steps.

“Wylan Van Eck,” he rasped as he entered.

Wylan stared up at him defiantly from the other side of the table. His bottom lip was shaking. “Detective Brekker.”

“Yeah.” Kaz sat down. “I wanted to talk to you. You know by now I assume that your music teacher was found dead last night,”

Wylan gulped and nodded.

“So at this point it’s reasonable to say that these murders are connected to you. Can you think of anyone who would want to target you like this?”

“No.”

“Can you tell me a bit about your relationship with the victims?”

“Alina was my best friend,” he said quietly. “We’ve known each other since elementary school. We took classes together and applied to all the same colleges. Melvin and I weren’t particularly close. He was my teacher. We only talked during lessons.”

“Do you personally have any connection to gambling?”

Wylan shook his head.

“Do you know if Melvin did?”

“No,” again.

“Okay. What were you doing the night of Alina Starkov’s murder? Why didn’t you hear someone break in?”

Wylan pursed his lips. “I was listening to music.”

“What song?” Kaz demanded, leaning closer. 

“‘Moonlight Sonata’ in e minor.”

“And you’re aware that lying to law enforcement is a crime punishable with fines and possible jail time?”

He looked like he was sweating. He was flushed and his cheeks were damp. He was telling the truth, just not the entire truth.

“Yes.”

“And knowing this, would you like to add anything?”

Wylan stared at his shaking hands for a few moments. He looked so small even though he probably wasn’t that much younger than Kaz himself. He was pale, curly-haired. It didn’t look like he’d showered in multiple days. He inhaled deeply, then, he let out a long, shuddering sigh. 

“I wasn’t alone the night of Alina’s murder.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They take a road trip. Kaz angrily eats cheese. What more could you possibly want?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: the time jumps are a little confusing in this one. (Chapter 2 starts right before the first scene of chapter 1). Also, it's a tad slow-moving but I promise there's actually a point to everything that happens in this chapter. Or is there.... Ha hA. Guess you'll see

16 January 2020, 7:00 pm

The night before Kaz found the first body was in theory, just like any other night. He’d been at the station between shifts, not really doing anything in particular. He’d stepped outside, fiddled with his phone for a few minutes, gotten bored. Inej had been in the precinct doing paperwork. He'd felt restless. Not happy, not sad, just hyper aware of everything around him in a way that made him want to move, run, escape.

He didn’t know what brought him to the roof. He was an adult now, not some reckless teenager. He was supposed to be out getting dinner -- or better yet, making dinner before his night shift. He shouldn’t be at the station. He shouldn’t be climbing the steps to the roof like he was having some sort of psychotic break. He hadn’t had a panic attack in years. He’d had them all the time in college. He’d been in big classrooms in a bigger city, pushing his way through crowds of people, brushing skin to skin. Even on hot days, he covered up with gloves and sweaters. Now though, he'd thought he was getting better. He had been better, for almost a year now. That was why the familiar struggle for air and taste of copper in his mouth was that much more infuriating. Some of it, of course, could be passed off on the date. January 16th would never be just another day on the calendar for him. It wasn't new or surprising -- the anxiety -- it was just exhausting.

So he climbed to the roof and crossed the mottled shingles until he was positioned close to the storm drain but still out of sight of passersby. He didn’t want anyone calling the fire department on the crazy guy sitting on the roof of their precinct. 

Twenty minutes passed and his breathing was still coming a little faster than normal. It wasn’t a full on panic attack, not yet at least. He refused to let it get to that point. He breathed in the sharp, frozen air, staring down at the passing headlights and willing himself to relax.

A few seconds later he was ripped from his stupor by the sound of a latch turning. The maintenance door leading out of the precinct opened and a familiar shadow crept onto the roof.

“Kaz?” Inej's voice had a faraway quality to it, but it was still grounding. It still calmed him more than any therapy trick or breathing technique ever could.

He re-positioned himself, to look less pitiful, stretching out his legs and crossing his arms. It was colder up here than he’d expected. His cheeks felt windblown and his nose was numb.

“Yeah,” he croaked. “I’m over here.” there was no point in pretending he wasn’t. Otherwise she’d just be looking in all the wrong spots and driving herself mad. Kaz found it incredibly anti-productive -- caring about people.

She crossed the roof to him, nimble as always, one foot in front of the other over the frosted shingles. She reminded him of a tight-rope walker, dancing right along the edge, making everyone gasp with worry as she tipped this way and that.

When she reached him, she plopped down a few feet away, far enough that he had his space, but close enough that they could talk comfortably. She always thought about those sorts of things. When they’d first worked on cases together, a year or so out of the academy, she’d hated him a bit. And he’d deserved it. For the first month, he’d completely ignored her ideas in the field. He didn’t take the coffee and croissants she got him in the morning. He barely spoke a word to her when they were on patrol.

She snapped at him. He sneered at her. Until finally, he messed up, big time. He’d underestimated how many perps were in a warehouse, hadn’t called for backup, and if not for Inej, would have gotten himself shot.

After that, he was quietly apologetic. He got her coffee. She gave him space. It worked. 

He could hear her breathing softly beside him now and he tried to match his breaths to hers. “Why were you looking for me?” 

“It’s the 16th, Brekker. I’m not an idiot.”

He watched the outline of her hands moving in the darkness. She wasn’t like Jesper -- always fidgeting. But when she had something on her mind she tended to occupy her hands.

“And what would you know about the 16th?” he said coldly.

“Your file is public record. There are articles about what happened,” she said the words carefully, but they still stung. Talking about it always stung. “I would know anyway though. You’re not as unreadable as you seem to think you are.”

“For most people I am.” 

“Yeah, but I know you.”

“No one knows me,” Kaz replied, almost automatically. “I make sure they don’t.”He meant to say it as a threat, something to make her leave him alone. But it came out dull and more than a little sad sounding. He wasn’t sure he wanted her to leave anyway. 

Inej laughed drily. “Yeah, sure, Mr. Drama, and that’s how I know that every Monday after your shift, you get black coffee and a pastry from that local place on the corner -- because you hate Mondays, but you love coffee. And I know that you don’t like drinking very much because it dulls your senses, but on holidays you lock yourself up in your apartment with whiskey and stupid detective movies.”

“I like predicting the murders,” he mumbled, defending himself to no avail.

“And I know that you pretend not to care about people, but really you care more than anyone I know, except maybe Nina.”

He flicked his eyes down, helplessly awkward. He hadn’t felt this vulnerable in years. He was shaking and it wasn’t from the cold no matter how much he wished it was. Feelings were terribly inconvenient.

“And yeah,” Inej continued. “I know that the 16th is the anniversary of your brother’s death, and that messed you up. And maybe it’s one of the reasons you became a cop, because you wanted to stop people like the man who did this to you.” she reached out a hand. She didn’t try to touch him, she just left her palm, open on the roof between them. “But I like to think you would’ve become a cop no matter what, because that’s how we met and it’s hard for me to imagine a timeline in which me and you don’t know each other.” she said the words softly, almost sweetly. 

Kaz wasn’t oblivious. He saw the way Inej looked at him sometimes. He knew they’d been acting closer than friends for a while now, skirting the outside of each other’s lives. He knew she was waiting right now, waiting for him to put his hand over hers. Jesper teased him about how hopeless he was endlessly. But the truth was, he couldn’t close the gap between their hands, no matter how much he wanted to. He couldn’t do that to her. He couldn’t put his trauma on her and ask her to carry it.

So he jerked away from her instead. “You’re wrong. You don’t know me at all.” he stood up, crossed the roof, and she didn’t follow. He could feel her eyes on his neck though, even when he was opening his car door and turning the key in the ignition. He felt exposed, hunted. 

He drove around for hours before he found Jesper outside the Dollar Tree.

21, January, 2020, 2:15 p.m.

After interrogating Wylan, he was buzzing, exhaustion forgotten in turn for adrenaline. He had a lead, finally. He swung out of the room, bypassed Inej, and plopped himself down in an old office chair across from Nina’s desk.

Nina raised an eyebrow at him over her paperwork. “I’m assuming this new and improved smiling Kaz, has something to do with your interrogation?”

He felt his lips tugging up further. He knew his smile wasn’t pretty. It was the same look an arsonist got when they lit a match. “Exactly right, Zenik.”

“Predictable,” she sighed. “Why don’t you get excited about something healthy for once -- like waffles? Or human interaction?”

Kaz’s smile snapped. “Do you want to know or not, detective?”

“Yeah, yeah. What did Wylan tell you?”

“Alina was also a music student, in the same program as Wylan. The night of her murder, and subsequent dumping on the Van Ecks’ coffee table, Wylan was studying with Nikolai Lantsov.”

“Lantsov?” Nina perked up, scribbling the name down. “The Lantsovs.”

“Yes, the Lantsovs.” Kaz resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Nikolai’s the heir to the family fortune, blah blah. But apparently, he’s just another rebellious kid, because the night of Alina’s murder he was supposed to be at some social gathering. Instead, he was in Wylan’s bedroom, listening to Moonlight Sonata in E minor. Nikolai is also in the music program, but he tends to blow school off because he likes to go to -- get this -- Northwest Casino. So that poses the question, who was the murderer targeting?”

Nina hummed thoughtfully. “I guess this means we’ll have to bring in more rich boys.”

“Oh what a travesty for you,” Kaz agreed. “Look up anything you can find on Nikolai Lantsov. I’m going to find out what’s so special about this music program.”

Nina smirked. “Who knows, maybe you’ll learn something. I’ve always thought you would be good at playing the trumpet.”

“Yes Zenik, and you would be lovely at serenading people if you weren’t tone deaf,” he shot back, already standing up and heading for the door.

He could hear her yell “We’ll form a band!” as he left the room.

A minute later, as he was trying to start his car, his passenger side door opened and Inej slid into the seat, shutting it behind her. 

He jolted at her sudden appearance. “What are you doing, detective Ghafa?” he tried to sound irritable, even as looking at her made his chest ache. 

She was serene as always, settling into the seat beside him without a sound. Her hair was tied into a tight braid down her back. There were circles under her eyes, just like him. He’d almost forgotten that he wasn’t the only one losing sleep. “We’re partners on this case, Kaz. I don’t care if you hate me right now. You still have to tell me where you’re going. You still have to include me when new information comes up. You can be a bad friend if you’d like, but right now you’re being a bad cop.”

He stared at her, aware that he looked all kinds of conflicted, and then he nodded. He didn’t apologize but with Inej he didn’t have to. She reached into her bag, pulled out a thermos and held it out to him. “Coffee, because I know you don’t drink water.”

That actually startled a laugh out of him. 

“So, where are we going?”

“I’ll tell you on the way.”

\- - -

The music school was a couple of hours from the precinct. Most of the drive passed in silence. Inej put on the radio for a bit, but she kept switching stations, so Kaz did them both a favor and hit the power button. They had to stop for gas about half-way along, and as he was filling up the tank Inej slipped inside. He didn’t know how she did that: disappear. He’d always prided himself on his observational skills, but Inej tended to take those skills, dodge around them, and murder them from behind. He admired her for it. A lot of the time it was what saved him when the two of them were on a case. 

After filling up its tank, he started the car and leaned back slightly in his seat. When Inej returned she was clutching a paper bag under one arm and there were two drinks in her hands.

Kaz wrinkled his nose. “If that’s what I think it is I won’t attend your funeral.” 

Inej got comfortable in the passenger seat as he pulled the car out of the station. “Cry me a river, Brekker. I bought you lunch.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Ah huh, and that’s the only reason you haven’t eaten today?”

He didn’t justify that with an answer. There was no way she could know that unless she had been stalking him all morning.

“I promise it’s the healthiest gas station meal you could ever hope for.” she picked through the paper bag and pulled out a small container of salted cashews, shaking it slightly.

He signaled to merge onto the freeway and she set one of the drinks, along with the cashews in the cupholder by his elbow. He grit his teeth, eyes set defiantly on the car in front of them.

To his surprise she didn’t say anything else, and when he glanced over again, she was pressed up against her window, peering out at the passing fields of corn, dirt, and occasional cloud -- silently enraptured. His eyes caught on her. Something about the way she leaned into the glass, her breath fogging up the window, was enthralling. Inej was beautiful in the way crystals were beautiful. They were shiny when they caught the light. They drew you in, close enough to touch. And of course, if you weren’t careful when you held them, they could break. 

He let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. He forgot sometimes about Inej’s range for attention. He forced his eyes back on the road before he got them into a car accident out of sheer idiocy.

When they finally pulled up outside the music school, an hour or so later, Inej was asleep. He didn’t bother to wake her, just slipped out of the car, closing and locking the doors behind him.

He was already halfway up the steps when he heard the telltale sound of his car door slamming. By the time he was in the hall, she was beside him, breathing slightly harder than usual from running. She didn’t speak to him as she caught up, just sidled up beside him, as serene as ever. 

They went to the office first to explain who they were to the administration. He’d already called on his way out of town so they were greeted well enough. He asked the man at the front desk if they could speak to Nikolai Lantsov. He peered up at them, apparently unimpressed. “Margaret,” he said vaguely flicking his hand at a short woman with light brown hair. She startled at the sound of her name, then sighed and marched off.

Kaz assumed she was going to get Nikolai, but wasn’t going to bet his life on it. The room was stone-silent in Margaret’s absence. Inej wouldn’t even look at him.

Good, he figured. He wanted her to hate him. He didn’t know why it left such a constricted feeling in his throat.

When Margaret returned she was tailing a boy -- Wylan’s age, Kaz assumed, although he looked older. He seemed to have a chronic model face, framed by a cut jawline and topped with perfect golden curls. His eyes weren’t visible behind a pair of expensive-looking sunglasses. 

He swung into the room and immediately plopped himself down onto one of the dark blue waiting chairs, leaning back and throwing one leg over the other. “So,” he said contentedly. “I’m wanted, I see?”

Kaz looked to Inej because this was around the time they would normally exchange knowing glances, but she was still pointedly ignoring him. He tried not to scowl. Instead, he pulled a chair over from the front desk so that he could sit eye-to-eye with the heir to the Lantsov fortune. “I assume you’re aware of the recent murders?”

Kaz couldn’t completely tell because of the glasses, but Nikolai winced, his demeanor instantly deflating. “Yeah,” he said. “If you’re here interrogating her classmates instead of out there getting justice, you should reevaluate.”

Kaz didn’t miss the way he danced around saying Alina Starkov’s name. It implied familiarity. “Why were you in Wylan Van Eck’s house the night of Alina’s murder?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I was looking for her. I thought she was going to be at Wylan’s.”

Kaz hardened his gaze. “And why were you looking for her?”

“Look,” he started. “I don’t know how you do things, detective, but I usually ask someone to dinner first before accusing them of murder.”

“We’re not accusing you, Nikolai,” Inej interjected.

“Interesting that you thought we were.”

Nikolai grimaced. “Alina left me a note, okay? You can read it if you’d like. She said she’d be at Wylan’s that night and that I should come over.” he produced a crumpled piece of binder paper from his pocket and shoved it at Kaz.

Kaz took it carefully between his gloved fingers. “Did anyone besides you and whoever wrote it, touch this?”

Nikolai smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s cleaner than me.” 

“Do you mind if I take it?”

“Course not. You act like I have sentimentality left to spare.” he stood. “So, we done here?”

Kaz nodded and also rose. 

Nikolai reached up and tipped down his glasses to show a pair of startling blue eyes. The whites of them were bloodshot and his eyelids were puffy from crying. “Find whoever did this, okay? I’m counting on you both being the best damn detectives out there.” his gaze flicked between them.

Inej reached out and squeezed his shoulder softly before dropping her hand. “We’ll catch them.”

Kaz was already turning to stride out of the office. 

They only talked to a few other people on campus. They questioned all the teachers in Wylan’s music program. All of them said essentially the same thing about the second victim. He was quiet, good at what he did, liked teaching and liked the students. He had no criminal record. He had no known enemies. He didn’t gamble. He barely ever went into the city where his body was found. 

About Alina Starkov, they had much more to say actually. They seemed to know a student who’d been there for close to a year, better than they knew the teacher who’d been there for seven. She was quite the controversial figure. Everybody adored her music. Many of the students resented her, purely for that reason. 

One girl, when being questioned about Alina, actually wrinkled her nose. “Have you talked to Lantsov?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“Yes, actually. Why?”

“The two of them were basically dating. It drove everyone mad because honestly Nikolai’s a catch and they’ve been diving at his feet since the beginning of term. He flirts with everyone usually, but he started actually liking Alina. He got her flowers and wrote her stupid poems and shit.”

“What do you mean by ‘basically’?”

The girl rolled her eyes. “Well, Alina didn’t reciprocate those feelings. Literally the one straight girl in our grade who didn’t like him and he was obsessed with her. They’re both idiots in my opinion.”

Inej raised an eyebrow. “You know, Alina Starkov is dead, right?”

“Sure,” the girl agreed.

That was their last interrogation, but they didn’t arrive back at the precinct until nightfall. On the way back Inej didn’t let Kaz drive. She just got onto the driver’s side of his car and pointed at the passenger seat meaningfully. Kaz would have argued, except they still weren’t speaking to each other. So he sat shotgun and tossed the keys at her lap. She caught them.

The precinct had all the lights on still when they pulled up in the parking lot. Kaz immediately bagged up the note Nikolai had given them and sent it in to check for fingerprints. He doubted they’d find anything since the only prints on Alina’s body had been Wylan’s, but it felt wrong not to check. The handwriting on the note was distinctly feminine. When he compared it to papers Alina had written, it matched, but Kaz wasn’t convinced.

The whole thing was too staged. The note had been a messy love confession from Alina to Nikolai, pleading for him to come to the Van Eck estate on the night she was killed so that they could talk. When Nikolai had gotten there, Wylan was the only one inside. According to Wylan, he’d left dejectedly shortly after, stealing a bottle of Pinot Noir on his way out. 

Someone had wanted Nikolai to be there. Someone who knew that the only sure way to get to him was through Alina Starkov.

Kaz tried to stay up again, a mug of coffee at his elbow, his eyes glued to police reports, but he fell asleep on his keyboard.

22, January, 2020, 8:00 a.m.

When he woke, it was to the sound of the door opening. He startled up, not realizing where he was at first, his keyboard sticking to his face like a leech for a few lingering seconds before falling back to his desk. He blinked blearily around the room. “Who’s there?!”

“Just me. Morning, sunshine,” Jesper was standing by the door. “You sleep well?”

Kaz checked his watch. 8:03.“Shit,” Kaz wiped his hand over his face and swooshed his tongue across the roof of his mouth, like that could rub the sleep from his body. “Why are you here, Fahey?”

“Just looking for you, for confidential reasons.”

“It’s not like I’m always here,” Kaz pointed out with a frown.

“Ah huh. You’re telling me you didn’t just sleep at your desk for the second night in a row?” 

Kaz didn’t bother to correct him of the fact that the night before he wasn’t technically sleeping. He just leaned back, and said, “You’re stalling.”

“Inej told me to check on you,” he admitted.

“Tell her I’m bleeding out on the floor of the precinct,” Kaz jibed. He glanced down at his papers again, mostly so he didn’t have to look at Jesper’s pitifully sympathetic expression.

“Are the two of you okay, seriously?”

“I think, Inej and you both need to get your priorities sorted. I’m just doing my job. Speaking of,” he held up the files meaningfully.

“Actually, I have specific instructions to stay here until you eat breakfast,” Jesper said. He was grinning, not even a hint of remorse.

Kaz glowered at him, slamming the files back into the desk and pushing himself to his feet. “Me and Inej have the interrogation room in half an hour. Get out of here by then.”

“Aw! I can’t come along?”

“Not unless you want to wear a pair of handcuffs and pay bail.”

“That could be fun, in the right company.”

Kaz decidedly ignored that, opening the precinct’s mini fridge without glancing back. He pulled out a string cheese, then swung around, brandishing it at Jesper like a knife. “Look, food. Guess you can leave.”

“Don’t listen to him, Jesper,” a familiar voice said from the door. Inej was there. Unlike Kaz, she had changed into her uniform before coming to work. That was probably due to the fact that   
she’d actually gone home after yesterday. “Yul-bo’s already in the interrogation room,” she said. 

They were the first words she’d spoken to him since the implied silent pact. Kaz met her eyes, surprised. Her expression was unreadable -- sad, hopeful, both? 

“Eat all of that,” she instructed, pointing at the string cheese, still hanging loosely from his fingers. “Meet me there.”

Kaz glared after her, eating the string cheese resentfully and trying to ignore Jesper’s laughter. 

The interrogation room was tense when he got there. Kuwei Yul-bo, the head of forensics, was sitting in the suspect’s seat, a frown pushing its way around the edges of his face. Inej entered the room just before Kaz. He caught the door as it swung closed.

“Kuwei,” Inej said. “Do you know why you’re here today?”

“You wanted to talk to me about the Starkov case, due to my relationship with the Van Ecks,” he summarized. He looked about ready to stomp out of the room disdainfully.

“It’s a formality,” Inej assured him.

“Not really,” Kaz said, leveling eyes with Kuwei. He was the most likely suspect they had, he wasn’t letting the kid get off because he worked with the PD. 

Inej continued, “What were you doing the night of Alina’s murder?”

Kuwei leaned back in his chair. His smile was condescending. “I was here in the lab, actually. I had to pick up a friend’s shift.”

“A friend?” Kaz asked. He maybe sounded a little too suspicious because Kuwei tossed him a look, like how desperate are you? 

“Hanne,” he answered. “You may know her from around the precinct?”

Kaz didn’t. He made a point of remembering people, but he wasn’t as in touch with the workers in forensics. Kuwei didn’t have to know that though. Kaz examined him. He had a sort of chronic nervousness about him. It wasn’t like Wylan’s though. Wylan’s was insecure and ever apologetic. Kuwei’s was the kind of nervous that said he was afraid you’d misunderstand him, that you’d see him as less than he thought he deserved. He was confident in himself. That confidence just didn’t extend to other people. 

“Are we done here?” Kuwei asked into the silence.

Kaz smirked. “No.”

“If your alibi checks out then you’ll be in the clear,” Inej elaborated. “But we still have a few more questions.”

Kuwei leaned over the table, pressing his elbows into the aluminium, feinting fatigue. “Go ahead and ask, but you’re wasting your time and ignoring your real suspect.”

That actually surprised him. He knew that Kuwei had his own emotional investment in the case, but implying that he had suspicions about the murderer and had been withholding them, was something else entirely. 

“And who would that be?”

“Wylan Van Eck,” Kuwei said placidly. “Obviously.”

Kaz snorted. Clearly the brothers were more than ‘estranged’.

“Wylan has no motive,” Inej argued.

Kuwei shrugged. “Are you sure about that? Did you know that our father refused to pay for his college?”

Kaz hadn’t known that.

“Mr. Van Eck is a businessman,” Kuwei said, contempt and adoration fighting for dominance in his tone. “He was invested in his children being academically inclined. Wylan isn’t. Van Eck knew that but still hoped he would go to college for something useful. His choosing music wasn’t something that brought the two of them together. Van Eck refused to pay, so Wylan is reliant on scholarships and loans. Alina’s presence in the program would have lost him those scholarships. She was better than him.”

Inej looked skeptical. “They were best friends. He was found crying over her body.”

Kuwei shrugged. “I’m just giving you information. You’re the ones that have to interpret it.”

Kaz couldn't tell what his angle was, which was simultaneously interesting and aggravating to him. He didn't seem particularly concerned about his own position as a suspect. He was comfortable with his alibi. He was comfortable saying that his half-brother was guilty on two accounts of premeditated murder. Kaz was utterly vexed.

A knock on the door broke his train of thought. He glanced at Inej, glanced at Kuwei, then got up sourly and stalked to the door.

Nina stood on the other side, her face stricken. “You’re gonna to want to see this.”

“What is it?”

“Wylan,” she replied, explaining nothing. “Inej should come too.”

She turned on her heel, boots clicking on the linoleum floor. While Inej always kept her footsteps silent, Nina to made it her personal quest to be heard wherever she went. Kaz followed her because he knew when to take a hint. He glanced back at the table only once to see that Inej was already crossing the room. Kuwei remained in his chair, calm and condescending as always. Kaz shot a meaningful look in his direction. Stay where you are.

Once they were out of the interrogation room, Nina led them directly to her desk where she had spread out an arrangement of vivid, freshly printed photographs. She pointed at them directly, but her eyes were fixed on anything but. 

Kaz leaned down to take a closer look, a sense of dread creeping through his chest. Each photo was taken at a different angle, but they were all of the same thing -- the carpeted trunk of a car. The subject of the photos were its contents. Kaz didn’t know what he was looking at for a second, trying to take it all in even as bile rose in his throat. It was a perfect bouquet of organs -- body parts that may have once been red, warm, and framed by bones. Now they were a jumbled, pink mess across the bottom of someone’s Camry. 

He couldn’t look. He couldn’t look away. 

“Who does the car belong to?” Inej asked.

“There was no registration in the vehicle,” Nina said, her voice clipped with a clinical quality. “The license plates had been pried off.”

“But?” Kaz filled in, because they both heard it in her voice.

“Wylan’s prints were found all over the front seat of the car and on this.” she reached into her pocket and pulled out a ziplock bag. Kaz recognized it immediately

It was the note. The note that had brought Nikolai to Wylan Van Eck’s house on the night of the first murder.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a lil angsty, a lil happy. Inej kidnaps Kaz, but he's (mostly) okay with it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is late. Sorry dudes. I was planning on writing a few thousand more words on Friday but I had loads of homework and I figured I shouldn't drop out of school to become a monk just yet. Anyway, hope ya'll like it. It's a bit slow moving, but I promise the next chapter will be longer and will actually progress the plot. Thx for reading!

23 January 2020, 12:15 pm

“It’s not a fucking coincidence, Ghafa. Don’t you get that?”

They were sitting at a cafe on Clement street. It wasn’t exactly Kaz’s typical scene. He liked impersonal businesses -- the kind where you could go in, pick out what you want, pass the cashier a few bills, and leave without speaking a word more than necessary. Unfortunately he hadn’t had much choice in the matter. Kaz had called Inej close to an hour ago out of desperation and told her hoarsely to meet him at the station. She’d refused. 

He’d hung up on her. 

15 minutes later he’d gotten a text from her number with an address attached. When he’d pulled up outside he’d been greeted by a cheery yellow sign and a row of planter boxes overflowing with peonies. Inej greeted him from inside with an enthusiastic wave, and despite his glower, which usually made children run screaming, she hadn’t backed down.

Now, he was sitting across from her by the window, coffee and cake between them on the table.

“What do you want me to do, Kaz?” she said, noncommittally stirring her tea. “Arrest Kuwei? We don’t have anything on him. There’s no incriminating evidence. His alibi checked out. And he’s pointing his finger straight at Wylan.”

“Exactly. Why would he do that unless he had something to gain from it?”

“Wylan’s prints were found on a car. A car that’s trunk was stuffed with organs DNA matched to Alina Starkov and Melvin Burroughs.” Inej’s voice was calm, but her fingers -- clenched on the edge of the table -- were turning white at the knuckles. “Kaz, I want to believe that Wylan is innocent, but we have to consider this indiscriminately.”

Kaz stared blankly down at his coffee and cake. Inej had ordered the food before he’d arrived. He didn’t know how she knew he liked lemon pound cake. It seemed a strange thing to remember, even for someone who observed people for a living. He looked up at Inej, sitting across the table from him, waiting for a response. He couldn’t think of a single time they’d sat down to coffee together like this, outside of work. There was a reason for that, but he couldn’t remember it just then. 

“I’m not biased towards Wylan,” Kaz said. He couldn’t believe she’d think that. “Doesn’t it all seem a little too perfect to you? Nikolai, who’s been pining after Alina for years, receives a note drawing him to Wylan’s house under the presumption that she returns his feelings.”

“Wylan’s prints were found on the note,” Inej reminded him. “Alina’s weren’t, but Yul-bo’s weren’t either.”

Kaz grit his teeth. “If Wylan was the murderer, why would he want Nikolai to come to his house, if he wasn’t even going to find the body? Unless, whoever actually wrote the note, wanted us to find it with Wylan’s prints on it and think that Wylan, the murderer, was framing Nikolai.”

“Hm.” Inej took a small bite of her croissant and chewed it thoughtfully. “I think that’s a little convoluted, detective.”

“Wylan doesn’t fit the profile of this murderer,” Kaz said, running shaky fingers through his hair. “The killer we’re looking for doesn’t feel anything for these victims except resentment.” he slammed his hand down on the table. “The murders are meant as comic mockeries of the person they’re actually targeting. Wylan is too focused on maintaining his scholarship and composing sonatas to think about clever killing methods.”

“So you think Wylan’s being framed?”

“There’s no other explanation. The killer we’re looking for is refined. So far, they’ve left two perfect crime scenes. The bodies were pieces of art, clean of fingerprints or hairs or dirt. They knew what they were doing. The person who left no trace of themselves on those bodies wasn’t the kind of person who would leave their fingerprints on an incriminating note. Or the kind of person who would put organs in the trunk of a car and leave it where anyone could find it. However, they are the kind of person who doesn’t believe in other people’s intelligence.”

Inej caught onto that. “You’re saying that our killer set up all of this evidence pointing at Wylan because they think cops are stupid?”

“Essentially,” Kaz said. “There was no reason for Nikolai to be there that night, not strategically. But, him being there left a trail for us to follow step by step into our killer’s mirage.”

“We followed the clues and they led to Wylan.”

“That note was a messy forgery and it wasn’t believably written by Alina unless she’d been having a psychotic episode. But, we weren’t supposed to believe that it was. We were supposed to think that whoever wrote that note was our killer. We were supposed to check it for prints. We were supposed to find that car. And we were supposed to go on thinking that our killer was acting out of spite rather than strategy,” he finished his declaration by looking up at her with a satisfied smirk.

“Okay, fine,” Inej said. “But right now we have no other suspects, Kaz. Kuwei was cleared. We watched the footage of the forensics lab that night and he was there for hours.”

Kaz’s smile melted into a grimace. He definitely had watched that footage, over and over again in fact. He was so tired, so strung out. He’d tried to sleep last night, but every time he shut his eyes he saw rose petals and poker chips. 

The edge between memory and reality was becoming obsolete. He blinked, and it was like he was back in Wylan’s living room, staring down into the empty gaps between Alina Starkov’s ribs. Everything in this cafe was too bright, oversaturated. 

He took a sip of his coffee. It tasted sharp, metallic, like blood.

“I want to go back to the crime scene,” he said, voice smaller than usual.

Inej nodded. “The case is still open so Van Eck manor is as well. I can drive us there.”

Kaz felt his lips twitch down slightly. “Did Per Haskell tell you to micromanage me, or was on your own initiative?”

Inej didn’t look at all bothered by the accusation. She took a last bite of pastry then pushed the plate towards him slightly. “I haven’t talked to Per Haskell, but if you drive there by yourself I will. To be honest, Kaz, if I had the power to take you off this case, I would. You’re a good detective, but right now you’re not thinking clearly, and I know why even if you won’t acknowledge it.”

Kaz dug his fingernails through his gloves into his palms. “I’m not displacing my emotions, Ghafa,” he hissed. “This isn’t about him. This is about the job.”

“Good,” she said bluntly. “Then, you’ll have no problem having me along for the ride.”

\- - -

He’d had nightmares before. After the accident, after Jordie died, every night he’d woken up in a cold sweat. It still happened occasionally. The dream wasn’t always the same, but it always had the same ending. He was always running through a crowd, his body slamming against the hands and arms of strangers. He was trying to get somewhere, though he never knew quite why, only that it was imperative that he never stop moving. And when he did stop -- because he always did -- the dream shifted to a church. Standing above Jordie’s coffin he’d reach out, curiously, but his fingers would freeze over the latch. Then he’d wake, his face terror stricken and sticky with tears.

This time though. This time the dream was different. He was at the church, sitting in the front row, but he wasn’t a little kid like he always was in the dreams. He was himself, head to toe dressed in black for the funeral. Nina was sitting next to him, her eyes puffy from crying, but her gaze hardened and focused towards the head of the room.

Everyone was there actually. His whole squad plus Jesper, all dressed up in their best. Even Wylan was there, for whatever reason, near the back of the room. 

He didn’t see Inej until she stepped up to the stand, small black boots scuffing on the mahogany.

He stared up at her and she looked back, her eyes unfocused, looking right through him. She began to speak but he couldn’t hear what she was saying.

He got up, tried to walk towards her, and that’s when he noticed that beside her was the coffin. Jordie’s coffin, the same one he’d seen lowered into the ground years ago. There had been no corpse inside. His body had been too mutilated so they’d cremated him and their father had bought the coffin as a matter of pretense. But Kaz always assumed that in these nightmares, if he ever got to open the coffin, it would be different. Maybe if he saw his brother’s face again, even if it was in a dream, he’d get closure. He scrambled towards it, reaching for the latch, expecting to wake up.

Instead the lid opened all by itself, before he reached it. And suddenly he was looking down at himself, lying dead on a cushion of silk. 

He’d been bracing himself for horror, but all he could feel was relief at the sight of his own body. Because that was how it was supposed to be -- him dead, Jordie alive somewhere, faraway from this funeral and this church. 

“Kaz?”

Inej’s voice, harshly soft, startled him awake. He was sitting in the passenger seat of her car. It wasn’t moving anymore. They’d just pulled up outside the Van Eck manor which was only a fifteen minute drive from that coffee shop. He checked the time, anxiously. How long had he been out? Apparently only a handful of minutes, though it had felt like longer. The last thing he remembered was pulling up Google Maps, typing in the address, and slipping his phone into the cupholder. Inej had adjusted the radio to some alternative station and Kaz had drifted off -- against his better instincts -- to the sound of some guy whining about his ex. 

Caffeine was failing him.

He shoved open the car door and stumbled out, Inej gracefully joining him a second later. “You don’t have to come inside,” Kaz muttered.

“I might be your second on this case, Kaz, but I’m still your partner,” she pointed out. There was no heat to her words, even though she had every right to be mad at him. 

He wished she would get mad at him. It would be so much better than this sick in between. He didn’t think he could handle watching her send him sad glances and buy him cups of coffee. It wasn’t right. It made him want to punch something or climb to the roof. It made him want to curl up in his apartment with a bottle of whiskey and a stack of DVDs.

Inside, the house was dim. Only a few lights were on. Kaz always expected crime scenes to be the same way they were in his head -- bright and smelling of blood. But the cleanup crew had swept the place clean, leaving behind nothing but the dull taste of iron on the air, and a feeling of wrongness in Kaz’s gut. He crept forwards, blaming his increased heartbeat on sleep deprivation.

Once they were past the foyer, his eyes instantly found the place where Alina’s body had been spread. Obviously the corpse was gone. So was anything with blood on it since they’d already gotten photos and taken samples for forensics. 

“You alright?” Inej appeared beside him without warning. 

He still didn’t know how she did that. “Yes. Fine,” he grunted.

“And?”

He looked at her, wordlessly. What was she implying?

“How did they do it?” she asked when he didn’t immediately respond.

“Strangulation and dissection, dear Inej. I thought you’d at least read the autopsy report.”

She rolled her eyes. “I mean, how did they sneak the body into the house? I assumed that’s why we came here.”

That was one of the reasons. Kaz glanced around. “According to Wylan’s report, he was upstairs,” he said, suddenly finding himself. “Nikolai had just left. He wasn’t in the best state so it can be assumed that he left the door unlocked.”

“Nikolai was just a decoy though, to lead us to Wylan,” Inej elaborated. “So the killer wasn’t relying on that for the break-in.”

Kaz shook his head. “No, but for now we can assume they walked through the front door regardless. There are few silent ways to break-in and our killer was lugging heavy cargo. It’s doubtful they went to the window or the backdoor first when the front was a possibility.”

“Yeah, but that would have risked visibility,” Inej countered. “Wouldn’t they be afraid that a neighbor would spot them and call the cops?”

Kaz stared at the barren coffee table. “Yes, unless they disguised the body as something else. Something that could be transferred into a building completely undetected.”

Inej startled at the words, like she’d just had an epiphany. “The Van Ecks are rich. It’s not far-fetched to think they pay for door to door services.”

“A maid?” Kaz said immediately.

“Or a home chef, a gardener. A delivery man. Honestly if they posed as any faculty employee and carried Alina in some sort of container into the house they’d be inconspicuous.”

Kaz could feel a smile forming. 

“That still doesn’t help us though. I mean, not really.”

“It’s something,” he said. “It’s enough.”

\- - -

After visiting the Van Eck manor, Kaz found himself strung along beside Inej in the passenger seat of her car as she went about what he assumed was her daily routine when she wasn’t working. He was too tired to protest, too stubborn to fall asleep. So he sat there, slightly dazed but still alert enough to squint suspiciously at passerby and grunt responses to Inej’s jibes.

She stopped first at the grocery store, picked up a few bags. Kaz sat in the parking lot without argument, staring out at shoppers, feeling a dull sense of otherness about them. He wondered how many corpses they’d seen, how many screams they’d heard. It scared him that they’d only seen blood in the form of papercuts and medical dramas. 

When Inej came back she looked determined about something. 

Kaz knew that look. “What?”

She quirked a half-hearted smile. “I’m scheming.”

“That’s my thing.”

“I know.”

He didn’t ask her where they were going and she didn’t tell him, even when they were out of town and on the highway.

Kaz stared at the passing scenery. They were driving through a forest of tall, delicate trees with peeling bark. Clumps of foliage were interrupted by the occasional abandoned barn. It was mostly farmland out here. Where there weren't green fields and cows, there were places where those things used to be. 

Inej navigated the winding roads with a kind of familiarity. She didn’t check google maps once. Kaz caught on when he started seeing patches of water over the treeline. His suspicions were confirmed when Inej pulled onto the side of the road and cut the engine. The car was seated on the edge of a cliff, overlooking a great expanse of thrashing dark water and golden cliffs.

The sky was lit with the midday sun.

“The ocean,” Kaz said moderately, keeping his tone level but still not looking in Inej’s direction. “I don’t like water.”

It reminded him of things he didn’t like to remember. Things he always remembered anyway. Jordie’s body had been found in pieces, washed up on this shore. He felt a lump in his throat that took physical effort to swallow. 

Inej reached into the backseat of the car and pulled out her grocery bag along with a CD case. She held the bag in her lap and tossed the CD’s to Kaz. “Pick one,” she instructed.

“If I don’t will you bury me out here?” it was a pathetic attempt at their usual banter. Despite himself, he complied, unzipping the case and flipping through. The very first selection gave him pause, and he fingered the plastic lining. After getting a good look at the name, he barely restrained a smirk. “Predictable.”

“I am, not,” Inej muttered, still attending to the paper grocery bag.

“Let’s see,” he turned a few more laminated pages, studying each disk. “Mostly female singers, a few bands from out of the country. All of their songs probably tell stories or are based on folklore.” 

“It’s not exactly detective work if you’re looking at them.”

“Who said anything about detective work? You’re just predictable.”

He stopped about halfway through, his eye catching on a familiar name. “Huh.” it was an unlabeled disk, with flower doodles in blue sharpie drawn across the edge. He stuck it into the car’s CD player.

Inej surfaced from her paper bag holding two sandwiches. She passed one to Kaz and took the other for herself. “You’re not allergic to anything in this, so if you don’t eat it--”

“You’ll what? Report me?”

Inej hummed, unwrapped her sandwich, and took a bite. Her eyes were still fixed on the blue line of the ocean ahead of them.

“Why’d you take me here?” Kaz asked, quietly. The CD was still turning in the player. Maybe the machine was broken.

“You needed a break. Sometimes I think your brain moves too fast for your body.”

Kaz snorted, but he bit into his sandwich anyway. It tasted great, springy bread and soft melted cheese. After the initial shock, he just looked down at it spitefully. Inej’s kindness wasn’t fair. He was beginning to think nothing about life was. You were dealt the cards, and it was up to you to make what you wanted of your hand.

Inej paused her chewing beside him. “I thought it was time for you to have another memory here. A better one,” she explained.

Kaz’s entire body tensed against his seat. Jordie, again. Why couldn’t she just let it go? It wasn’t her responsibility to manage his emotions. “Who are you to decide that?” he hissed.

“Your friend,” she answered, like it was the simplest thing in the world. 

The sudden tension between them cracked when the CD player finally started working and bagpipes blasted out of the speakers by Kaz’s right ear.

He swore, sitting up too quickly and banging his head on the rest.

Inej was laughing, as easily as that. She dropped her sandwich so that she could reach forward and turn up the already dangerously high volume.“Told you,” she whispered between giggles. “Not predictable.”

It was almost a half hour later when they merged back onto the highway heading North into town. Kaz was just about to break the silence to ask her about their case, when a call came through on her radio.

She listened calmly enough, but her face was grim as she redirected the car down a small side street.

“What was the call about?”

Inej didn’t answer, her eyes fixed to the road.

“Detective Ghafa!” Kaz shouted, waving his hand in front of her face. “What was the call about?!”

“It’s Nikolai. Someone tried to kill him.” her lower lip was trembling but her eyes were set with determination.

It didn’t take long to get back into town, but Kaz was shaking with nerves by the time they pulled over outside the precinct.

“This isn’t--”

“This is the crime scene,” Inej said solemnly, already moving.

Kaz felt his eyes blow wide as he followed at a run. A gathering of flashing lights and paramedics greeted them on the other side of the building. Kas acknowledged several things at once: Nikolai was being bandaged and tended to in the back of an ambulance. There was a crimson stain on the pavement. And Wylan Van Eck was being cuffed.

Kaz felt his pulse speed as he stalked across the lot towards Wylan. “What the hell are you doing?” he demanded, staring at the two cops who were currently restraining the kid. “I’d love for you to be arresting the right murderer right now, but Wylan’s repellant to homicide. He should be in witness protection, not a jail cell.”

The guy holding Wylan stared guiltily up at him. Kaz prided himself on his reputation now more than ever. “I’m… I’m sorry, detective. We were just following orders.”

Wylan was trembling, tears slipping down his puffy cheeks. “Mr. Brekker,” he choked out. “I - I blacked out. I don’t remember…”

An icy voice cut into the conversation, “All due respect, detective Brekker, but the man you’re defending was found standing over Nikolai’s bleeding body with a knife in his hand.”

Kaz spun around to find the voice and found himself face to face with Zoya Nazyalensky from the Major Crimes unit. She glared down her nose at him -- regal, beautiful, and terrifying as always.

He met her gaze with just as much force. “Wylan was already arrested for the evidence pointing to him in the Starkov-Burroughs case. Why was he in the parking lot at all?”

“He made bail.” Zoya said coldly. “Because someone wasn’t doing their job right.” she glanced down at her watch, as if checking how long she had to continue this conversation. “But it’s alright,” she continued. “Because you won’t be investigating this any longer.”

Kaz paused at that, letting the words sink in. “What?”

“Apparently you’ve been acting unprofessional. Staying past your hours, not talking to the other detectives assigned to the case. Just ask your captain.” she was nearly smiling.

Kaz forcefully wiped his face of emotion and straightened to his full height. “Fine. I just hope you consider more than one story while investigating these murders. You might be surprised at what you find.” he met eyes with Wylan, nodded at Zoya, then backed away from the group.

Scanning the crowds, he noticed Kuwei bagging equipment, Genya chatting with Nina, and Inej bordering the taped off area. He followed her gaze and instantly saw why. Jesper was standing on the other side of the caution tape, a tray of coffees in one hand and a phone in the other. Inej was talking to him quietly.

Kaz walked to them. “What are you doing here, Fahey?”

“Coffee,” Jesper answered vaguely. Kaz had seen Jesper in almost every state of mind. He’d seen him at his worst, gambling himself into thousands in debt. He’d seen him at his best, holding up a chip triumphantly and calling it improvement. This was new though -- this lifeless shock. He was staring at the blood stain on the pavement, his expression blank.

“I need you to do something for me,” Kaz said, an idea springing into mind.

Inej glanced at him, like she knew exactly what he was thinking.

“What?” Jesper asked.

“Nothing drastic,” he answered. “A phone call. With Wylan Van Eck.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The murderer is revealed (!!). Have fun sifting through loads of exposition to get to that one scene though!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I stayed up all night writing this chapter. It was... fun? anyway, thank you so much for reading this all the way through. This fic is a hot mess, but the support means so much to me regardless!

23 January 2020, 6:00 pm

Almost directly after the Nikolai-incident Kaz was called into Per Haskell’s office and taken off the case. He respectfully grit his teeth and nodded because it wasn’t like the asshole actually thought for himself anyway.

He needed two things. He needed a way to talk to Wylan without anyone at the precinct knowing about it, and he needed to be updated on new forensic evidence about what was happening. Thus, he needed help. 

Jesper was the obvious bet for talking to Wylan. He was charismatic and knew how to needle information out of people. Most importantly, he wasn’t a cop and wasn’t directly related to Kaz in any way. If he could set up a phone call between Jesper and Wylan, in which they asked Wylan what happened to Nikolai that night, there was no way for them to trace the call to Kaz just by listening to a recording.

Obviously, Inej wasn’t on board with this idea. She cornered him outside the station, not an hour after the paramedics left.

“Kaz, you were taken off this case for a reason.”

“I’m aware.”

“You can’t just wave your hand and make the last week disappear. You got emotionally invested in a case. You made it personal. You endangered yourself and didn’t listen to the people trying to help--”

“Detective Ghafa,” Kaz interjected, raising a gloved hand. Her words sparked something in the back of his head, a suspicion that felt a lot like choking. “Did you report me to Per Haskell?” he said the words carefully, slowly, with a lightness that neither of them believed.

Inej’s silence, her pursed lips, were enough of an answer.

“That wasn’t your responsibility. None of this is,” he spat. “You’re not my--” he broke off, taking a deep breath and returning his face to something neutral, unreadable.

Inej fixed him with a tired stare. “It was just another case, Kaz, but you weren’t treating it like one. You weren’t sleeping. You weren’t eating. You shouldn’t have been working in the first place,” she said. Inej never raised her voice, but she was getting dangerously close. “It was too soon after the anniversary of his death. You weren’t in the right emotional state to handle it like a detective.”

“Were you handling it like a detective, when you went to Per Haskell? If you were just doing your job as my partner would you have reported me?” he said, seriously. 

“That’s not--” she glared up at him, flustered like he’d never seen her before.

“It’s just a question.”

“What do you want me to say, Kaz? That I’m sorry that I care about you? Well, I am. I really, really am. Hope that makes you happy.” and with that, she left him on the sidewalk, shutting the door to the precinct softly behind her. He wished she’d slammed it. He wished she would stay. He wished he could make his feet go after her.

24 January 2020, 10:20 a.m.

After the fight with Inej, he’d gone home, dejectedly. He’d drunk whiskey and stared at his ceiling, tracing the lines and counting the tiles like sheep, but he still couldn’t get himself to close his eyes.

As soon as it was a decent hour and he was sober enough to think, he called Jesper. 

Now, he was sitting in the kitchen of his studio apartment, a mug of coffee and an untouched bowl of cereal at his elbow. Jesper was sitting on the floor. Kaz had offered him a chair when he arrived, but he’d said something about ‘confinement’ and ‘social mores’ and then lounged out on Kaz’s rug. The phone was positioned on the floor in front of him but he was barely looking at it. 

Kaz on the other hand, was staring at it, waiting impatiently for it to ring.

“He might not even get the message. I mean, I know this is important, but is it important enough to get fired over?”

“What would you know about following rules, Jesper?” Kaz said, looking up, eyes narrowed. 

“Nothing, nothing,” Jesper backed off under Kaz’s accusing stare. Then glanced down at the phone. “But if he doesn’t get the message, then he won’t call…”

“Yes, Fahey,” a hint of exasperation edging at his tone. “It’s good he got the message, then.”

“Sure.” Jesper leaned back, dropping his head onto the rug like a big cat. “I’m just preparing you for disappointment. If I don’t, I fear for my own life, considering the whole,” he made an all-encompassing gesture at Kaz’s face.

Kaz was unamused.

“Just, I hope you don’t pick up dates with that face. They’d probably run away screaming. Or jump out of the car on the interstate or something.”

Kaz still didn’t justify this with a retort. Jesper already knew that Kaz didn’t ‘pick up’ people. Period. He was good at talking. He was good at finding criminals and twisting confessions out of them. But he wasn’t good at the whole small-talk thing.

“Seriously, do you ever not glare? Like, ever?”

“I’m not glaring,” Kaz said, crossing his arms but not changing his expression. “You’d know if I was glaring.”

“Sure, sweetcheeks. You’re just sunshine and lollipops.”

That was when the phone rang. Kaz had never been more grateful for cell phones than he was in that moment.

Jesper’s eyes blew wide, looking between the phone and Kaz.

“Well, answer it,” Kaz snapped. 

Jesper rolled his eyes and picked up. It took a second for the automated voice to get through it’s cautionary spiel about jail phone calls. Kaz held his breath the whole time.

They sat for a moment in grainy silence after the call was directed. But Kaz could hear someone breathing. If it was Wylan, he sounded nervous.

“Hey, you doing okay there, princess?” Jesper said with a restrained smile.

“Who is this?” 

“Jesper Fahey, at your service.”

“Why did officer Zenik give me this number?”

Kaz had called Nina that morning. He wasn’t sure if she’d actually follow through, but apparently his gruff urgency had been enough to convince her.

“I’m your number one fan?” Jesper suggested, weakly. “Really into murderers. I’ve got a thing.” Kaz resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands. 

Shockingly it didn’t sound like Wylan hung up.

Through the silence, Jesper glanced desperately at Kaz, as if Kaz could somehow fix his personality disorder or make him a time machine.

When Kaz just stared back at him, half-disdainful, half-impatient, Jesper cleared his throat.

“Who I am isn’t really important. I need to ask you a few questions about what happened to Nikolai Lantsov. I don’t believe that you hurt him and I want to help.”

Kaz kind of expected Wylan to hang up then, but he didn’t. He just said, “What do you wanna know?” in a small, small voice.

“Just tell me what happened -- what really happened.”

There was a pause while Wylan articulated what he wanted to say, and then, “The last thing I remember from before the parking lot was sitting inside the precinct. There weren’t a lot of people around. I was being watched because I was a suspect in the case -- by two cops. I think their names were Hanne Brum… and Mal-something? I don’t remember. Officer Zenik was there as well. She brought me food -- uhm, a chicken wrap. And she played cards with me on her break. Then… I blacked out.”

Kaz scribbled a note in sharpie on a loose piece of paper and thrust it at Jesper. ‘Ask him when he woke up’

Jesper nodded, distractedly. “And, what next? You were just suddenly standing over Nikolai’s body with a knife?”

“Pretty much,” he said. “The cops were there. They grabbed me, took the knife, held me down and cuffed me. Nikolai was rushed off a second later.”

‘Ask him about the note.’

That made Jesper’s brow crease. “Uh, do you by chance know anything about a note? A love letter? A warning…?”

Kaz sighed.

“No, I don’t think so,” Wylan said.

That wasn’t enough. Kaz needed some sort of explanation. ‘Did he write to Nikolai?’

Jesper squinted at the words, and said “The note would be written from you to Nikolai.”

“I don’t write,” Wylan answered. “I have pretty bad dyslexia. I can barely read on a good day.” 

Kaz’s lips twisted at the corners, satisfied as hell despite himself. Wylan could be lying, obviously, but it was enough proof for him. The note had been staged, so had Nikolai’s crime scene. But how had Wylan been drugged and taken out of the precinct without anyone noticing? The only explanation that made sense was that the killer was someone on the inside. Meaning, their murderer had been working side by side with them the entire time. Kaz knew that Kuwei had an air-tight alibi and he couldn’t go as far as to think that Inej had done it -- not yet, at least. But that still left plenty of suspects. Hundreds of people came and left the building every day.

Jesper was still talking to Wylan, although the topic of their conversation had shifted drastically.

“You’ve seriously never played a video game? Who are you?”

“I didn’t say that! I played Mario Kart a few times, at friends’ houses. My dad didn’t approve of them though.”

“All the more reason to play them!” Jesper argued. “Also, you’re an adult. You’ve been an adult for multiple years. How exactly are your father’s opinions on video games relevant?”

“He always said they were too violent,” Wylan said weakly. “And shooter games just don’t sound interesting to me.”

Jesper stifled a laugh. “You poor, abused child! There are other types of games. Okay, okay, here’s the deal,” Jesper put a hand up excitedly, as if Wylan could actually see him. “When you get out of there, I’m forcing a console into your hands whether you like it or not, and you’re giving me at least an hour. I’m gonna deserve that much after I help with your prison break.”

Kaz tapped his shoe against the floor a few times, causing Jesper to startle slightly, and drop the phone. Kaz made the universal sign for ‘wrap it up’ with his hands. Jesper rolled his eyes and put the phone back to his ear. “Gotta go, Van Eck. Call me.” and the sound went dead. Jesper glanced back at Kaz. “You look hideously pleased with yourself.”

“Wylan’s innocent.”

“Thought we already knew that.”

Kaz didn’t bat an eye. “I was about seventy percent sure, but there’s always a chance.”

“So, what next? I’m assuming you’ve been scheming something elaborate and completely unfounded?”

Kaz considered this. He had a plan, he just wasn’t sure he could enact it without the right amount of help. “Here’s what we know,” he said instead. “The killer was able to enter the building without the neighbors batting an eye. I’m assuming they were wearing a uniform of some kind -- most likely they were dressed as a maid or some other kind of service worker. The killer is over 21 as they were able to get into the casino inconspicuously. The killer has a vendetta against Wylan Van Eck, a college student, majoring in music and in possession of an outrageous inheritance.”

“And who doesn’t know what video games are,” Jesper added, unhelpfully.

“And, the killer is mostly likely employed by our police department.”

Jesper gaped at him. “Why do you think that?”

“Wylan was given something, probably through food, that made him black out. But he never got further away from the precinct than the parking lot. That implies that someone slipped something into his lunch. Officer Zenik brought him the food. She can’t be discounted.”

“Really? Nina?”

Kaz’s face maintained apathy. “Ghafa has an alibi. She was with me. Nina doesn’t.”

“Mm hm. And what exact motive would she have for ruining Wylan’s life?”

“I’m not saying she did it,” Kaz said, feeling his frustration swell. “I’m just saying we can’t count anyone out.”

“Yeah, Mr. Trust-issues. I get it.” 

Kaz doubted that.

“So who are you going to get information from then? Your girlfriend doesn’t approve of you working the case, and no one else at the precinct has an alibi.” Jesper smirked. Kaz wanted to punch it off his face.

But he was right. No one but Inej had an alibi except the one person Kaz really, really didn’t want to talk to. “Kuwei Yul-bo.”

\- - -

Kuwei wasn’t hard to track down. Kaz staked out the precinct from a safe enough distance during their lunch break. There was a quiet rush of people leaving, jumping in their cars to meet their families and friends for food. About 15 minutes in, he spotted a dot of slick black hair, bobbing its way down the steps.

When Kuwei was at yelling distance, Kaz cracked his window and called, “Yul-bo!”

Kuwei’s head jerked up, and when his eyes locked on Kaz, he did a full-on double take. He stumbled backwards tripping on a jagged patch of concrete. Apparently, karma didn’t spare pretentious assholes. 

When Kaz didn’t take his eyes off him, Kuwei gathered himself. He swiped invisible dust off his lapels and grudgingly stalked towards Kaz’s car, taking his sweet time about it. 

“What?” he said once he’d reached the window.

Kaz didn’t budge. He just pointed at the passenger seat, meaningfully.

Kuwei opened the door and sat. “I’m assuming this has nothing to do with the case you were suspended from?”

“You’re the only person in that building with a solid alibi. Thus, Yul-bo, by some strike of fate, you’ve proven yourself useful to me.”

“Lucky me.”

“I don’t think the murderer finished the job on Nikolai,” Kaz began.

Kuwei’s eyes flicked to the car door like he was wondering how best to escape without notice.

“They were trying to pin Wylan with murder, but Nikolai didn’t die. Therefore, Nikolai knows what really happened. As soon as he wakes up in that hospital, the killer’s trapped. Meaning, the killer’s going to try to finish the job.”

“Sure,” Kuwei said. “Except, there’s a problem. The killer’s already in custody, in the precinct.” 

Kaz glared. Arguing with Kuwei was like arguing with concrete -- useless and increasingly boring. He didn’t have time for it. “Wylan’s innocent. Look, I need you to go into the hospital to watch for the killer.”

“Why?”

“There may be cops there that know I’m suspended, so I can’t do it.”

Kuwei clearly noticed Kaz’s frustration with the fact, as his lips pulled up slightly. Kaz wanted to strangle him.

He resisted, honorably. “Evidently I can’t guarantee your safety, but I’ll be on the phone with you the entire time and Jesper will be down the hall from you in the waiting room. At the soonest sign of danger I can get him in.”

“But how will I get into his room in the first place? They’re only letting family visit.”

“Say you’re his cousin.”

Kuwei sniffed, irritably. “That’s illegal.”

Kaz gave Kuwei a look, because sure he was a cop but there was a morally grey area here. “Civil disobedience, Yul-bo. Find a way to justify it.”

He shut his eyes for a second, forcing his face to relax. “I’ll pick you up and drop you off at the hospital tonight. Got it?”

“From here,” Kuwei clarified.

Kaz raised an eyebrow and Kuwei squirmed.

“My house is out of your way,” he explained. “What time?”

“As soon as possible, so after your shift at 7:00.”

Kuwei nodded but didn’t make to leave the car. He just shifted awkwardly, staring at Kaz with hardened brown eyes. He appeared like he was going to ask a question, his lips open slightly on the silent words.

“What?” Kaz demanded. “Must I dismiss you?”

Kuwei’s mouth snapped shut. “No. Thanks.” he left, back up the parking lot, steps fast and jerky. 

Kaz couldn’t help his eyes from lingering. What had he been holding back -- information, maybe? Kaz shook himself. There was nothing he couldn’t get out of the man with a little bit of intimidation and technique. He left the precinct feeling strange, but satisfied.

He was going to catch this murderer.

\- - -

24 January 2020, 5:00 p.m

Kaz’s entire body was thrumming with energy. He paced the length of his apartment for a full hour, thinking. Inej would call it scheming, except he already had the scheme. He just needed to know that it would work. 

He got the first call around 5:00. His phone vibrated and he nearly threw it across the room. When the second buzz sounded and he realized it was just a call, he shoved it in his pocket without checking the screen. He wasn’t usually jumpy. The culprit was either caffeine or lack of sleep and the latter was more difficult to solve than one might think. So, he blamed it on the coffee, and filled his cup with tea instead.

He may have ignored the first call, but he couldn't ignore the third. He checked the screen, only to see Inej’s face staring back at him. He’d taken the photo at an office party a year ago. She was raising her eyebrows at him, trying to look aloof, but her cheeks were already breaking into a laugh. He’d only kept the picture because he thought it was smart to have pictures for Caller ID, but he found himself staring at it far too often. 

Now wasn’t one of those times. He pursed his lips, turning his phone on silent and leaving it on the counter.

Dutifully ignoring Inej, he decided to make eggs. Unfortunately they turned into ash on the bottom of his nonstick pan. So he dumped them and ate the stroop waffles Nina had left in his cupboard six months ago. These were drastic times.

He tried to watch a movie but he couldn’t process a single word that was said or a single picture on the screen. He kept checking the clock. When the hands hit 6:30, he hopped to his feet, swung on a coat, and locked the door with shaking fingers. 

Jesper was already waiting in the car. 

“You could have come and got me,” Kaz said as he started the engine.

Jesper just shrugged. “Guess I wasn’t that desperate to see you.”

They picked up Kuwei and drove to the hospital. Jesper talked the entire time, but if you asked Kaz later what he’d been saying, he wouldn’t be able to tell. 

It physically hurt him, watching the two men enter the hospital without him. Neither of them were cops. He should be going in there, not them. This plan had holes, he knew that. He just hoped there weren’t too many. 

It felt like a stakeout from the beginning. Kaz had insisted they wear mics. That had been met with two different reactions. Jesper had been excited about it, saying this was like a spy movie. Kuwei had been more than a little suspicious. (“Do you just carry those on you?”) He’d installed it on his shirt anyway though, so Kaz didn’t bother to explain.

He listened to the two of them take their positions -- Jesper in the waiting room, Kuwei at Nikolai’s bedside. 

Nightfall came and passed. The cold air felt harsher than normal so Kaz gave up, turned on his car, and turned up the heat. If he was on his phone, to passerby it would look like he was waiting to pick someone up. Thus, he pulled his phone from his pocket and turned it off airplane mode for the first time since Inej’s calls.

A series of notifications flooded the screen. He had ten missed calls from Inej and three from Nina.

Then the texts came and he startled in his seat. The first few were all various versions of ‘pick up ur phone’, ‘where are you??’, and ‘we need to talk’. The last one was time stamped as only half an hour ago. It read: Wylan confessed.

Kaz stared at the words for what felt like minutes before clicking the ‘return-call’ button. 

She picked up on the second ring. “Kaz--”

He cut her off, “Wylan is innocent.”

“I know,” she said it on a sigh. He could hear voices in the background, low and urgent. She was still at work. “It was the worst confession I’ve ever heard. He looked like he was going to vomit the entire time.”

“So, why?--” Kaz answered his own question halfway through asking it. “He’s being blackmailed.”

“Or he did it.” she didn’t sound convinced. “We have no proof of the former. It’s not like we can save him from murder charges because we have a gut feeling about it, Kaz. He confessed. Justice will play out regardless, whether we like the results or not.”

Kaz couldn’t accept that, and she very well knew it. “Inej, you should be aware by now that I’m not exactly friends with fate.”

“Take action or not,” Inej replied. Her voice was clipped. She understood his morals well enough to know he would do something. “It’s your prerogative, your repercussions.”

“Why does that sound so much like a goodbye, Ghafa? Have a little faith. I thought you were full of it.”

“It’s not faith with you, Kaz. It’s a wager.” he could hear the smile in her voice, even through his shitty phone service. And it stayed in his head minutes after she hung up.

The car was silent. The parking lot was empty. Too bad that silence didn’t always entail peace. He realized it was too quiet, a little too late. The wire he had been listening to for the past hour was completely soundless. There was no static, no indication of Kuwei’s breathing on the other side.

He dialed Jesper. “Something’s wrong.”

“What?”

“Check on Kuwei.”

Jesper hung up, and like clockwork, an ear-splitting sound cracked the air from only feet away. Translucent shards of glass were raining from above. It was everywhere; his hair, the seat cushions, all across the dash. 

He swore aloud, but couldn’t hear it due to the ringing in his ears. A gun had been fired and the bullet had passed straight through two of his windows, missing his nose by inches. 

He spilled out of the car, crouching down by the back tire and glancing around for the assailant.

His attempt at hiding proved futile when his eyes found a pair of glossy black boots quickly approaching. He scanned up her body and was struck by a pair of penetrating green eyes and the barrel of a gun, pointed straight at his forehead. 

“Lovely to meet you, as well. Shall I introduce myself before you bloody my suit?” he was shocked by the level tenor of his own voice.

The woman staring back at him -- whom he was now beginning to recognize -- looked far more nervous than him. She was holding the gun steady with both hands, but her entire body was quivering in the wind. Her hair, long and brown, was tied back. Her thin lips were drawn thinner on a frown. And her feet were staggered like a cop’s.

“Don’t move,” she choked out. “Or I’ll shoot.”

He felt his face go slack with surprise. “You’re Hanne Brum.” 

She was a beat cop, yes, but she was also the daughter of Jarl Brum, the old commissioner of their department. He had died a month or so ago of an accident involving prescription medication. They were still in the process of looking for a replacement.

The name was familiar in a more immediate way though. He had heard it recently, earlier that day in fact, while talking to Wylan Van Eck. And before that even, while interrogating Kuwei Yul Bo. 

Kaz felt the pieces clicking together like clockwork. “Kuwei was covering your shift on the night of Alina Starkov’s murder. That was his alibi.”

“I was bringing the body to the Van Eck manor, yes,” she said, more than a little bitterness in her tone.

“Dressed as a maid?”

She raised an eyebrow. “What do you care?”

“I just like being right,” he said with a half shrug. Then he noticed the gun again and realized just exactly what this meant, and exactly how little sense it made. “But, you. Why you of all people? You don’t have any reason to target Wylan Van Eck’s best friend or his music teacher and classmate. You don’t have any motive. You couldn’t be working alone, unless-- no.” Horror crept through him, like ice, freezing his blood in his veins.

She smirked ruefully, taking her fingers away from the gun to brush a strand of hair from one cheek. “I wasn’t working alone.”

“You don’t really want to kill me then,” he said. If she did, she would have already. He had to get to Jesper. He had to warn him somehow. If he didn’t, that death would be on his shoulders. He’d practically gift-wrapped Nikolai’s body for the murderer; a mouse playing into the cat’s claws. “We can help you get out of this. If you put down the gun now, you’ll have one less death on your conscience.”

Hanne stayed quiet, eyes fixed, not on his, but on his forehead where her gun was aimed. Her jaw was set. 

“But you can’t do that,” he said with a sigh. “Because Kuwei Yul-bo needs you to murder me.”

She still didn’t respond. He took that as a yes.

“You didn’t murder those people. You just dressed up their corpses. You didn’t care that they were dead, only that Kuwei knew that you were doing your job. You protected his alibi by doing the dirty work while he sat at the station in his lab. He wanted to frame Wylan for it, because he wanted to take Wylan down, and not just by killing him because death was too sweet a pardon,” Kaz paused to think. “Kuwei wanted to completely ruin him. He wanted to ruin the life that he thought was rightfully his. They’re half brothers but Kuwei only met his father a few years ago. Van Eck was ready to leave the entire estate to Wylan, the boy he had raised, rather than Kuwei, the stranger only attached to him by blood. Kuwei thought that after a life without a father he deserved at least the money.”

Hanne nodded. “Decent assessment. You got one thing wrong though.”

“What’s that?” 

“I did care that they were dead, and I’ll care -- if I kill you. But, I can’t… I can’t go to prison for what he did.”

Kaz frowned. “Yul-bo?”

She snorted. “My father.”

“Your father…” it only took a second to figure out. “Your father’s death wasn’t an accident.”

“You’re a good detective. It’ll be sad to see you go.”

“Kuwei’s blackmailing you with your father’s death. He knew about it. He threatened to turn you in unless you helped him with his little scheme. You were supposed to frame Wylan for the murders, but you messed up with the letter. It didn’t make sense. Inej and I caught on. So, you drugged Wylan’s food at the station. He had a blackout. You took him out to the parking lot and set up the perfect crime scene. Nikolai, bleeding out on the concrete, and a confused Wylan holding a knife. Only -- I don’t understand one thing. How did you get Wylan to confess?”

“Why should I tell you? Why shouldn’t I shoot you?”

Kaz laughed hoarsely and spread his arms wide, ignoring the tiny shots of pain up his shoulders. Glass shards from the window accident were still clinging to his skin. “Go ahead and shoot me, Hanne. I’m not stopping you. You should probably do it before someone comes out of that hospital. Or if Kuwei’s killing Jesper right now, you should probably do it before the rest of our squad gets here. It won’t be a pretty crime scene.”

“I didn’t get Wylan to confess. Kuwei did. Last step is killing you, but you’re making it increasingly difficult.”

“How? You’ve killed people far more innocent than me before.”

“No.” she shook her head. “No, I haven’t. Killing my father was an act of charity. Trust me.”

“Helping Kuwei kill Alina and Melvin didn’t count?”

“I didn’t--” she faltered back slightly, gun going slack in her hands. “Kuwei killed them!”

“I’m just saying,” Kaz said calmly. “That as I see it, you have two options. You can either continue as you are: kill me, get away with murder, and live with this for the rest of your life. Or, you can let me go, tell the cops everything, and get a lighter sentence. The truth comes out. Justice is served. Do you really want Kuwei Yul-bo to be the one who wins in the end?” he sounded like Inej. Though, he had a feeling Hanne would be more susceptible to the comment about ‘winning’ than the comment about justice.

She didn’t stumble anymore. She tightened her hands on the gun. She took a step forward, then another, until she was standing directly in front of him with the barrel affixed to his forehead. 

She leaned in close and he began to doubt his big speech for the first time. His back was still pressed against the cold door of his car. He could smell her sweat. He could smell gunpowder. This was it -- this was Kaz Brekker’s big finale. His last fucking hurrah, after a lifetime of skirting the edge of death. 

She whispered something close to his ear, but the blood in his head was pounding too hard for him to listen. He took in a deep breath, but he didn’t make it to the exhale before a gunshot split the air around them.

He was covered in blood, in a way that seemed impossibly fast. It was on his clothes, his face, the pavement around them. Hanne fell to the ground, her body writhing, her face contorted. She kept letting out little strangled gasps.

There were flashing blue lights on the other side of the parking lot and silhouettes of people rushing towards him.

Her blood was on his tongue. Someone’s hands were on his shoulders, rocking him gently. “Kaz, you’re okay. Can you hear me?”

Inej’s voice was the last thing he heard before his vision went dark.

\- - -

24 January 2020, 10:00 p.m

He woke up at the station. He could tell because the air no longer smelled like iron and pavement. Now it smelled like linoleum and week-old danishes. He was sitting in a cushioned chair facing the bulletin board. His coat was laid out over him like a blanket.

“He’s awake!” a crashing sound from a nearby desk was all the warning he got before Nina was walking towards him like there was something chasing her. “How are you feeling? I mean, obviously poorly. Someone just tried to kill you. Don’t think for a second that you’ll escape telling that story at every holiday party for the rest of your life.” she was grinning from ear to ear, dimples and all.

Kaz reached up, brushing aside his coat-blanket, to rub his temples blearily. “Hanne Brum waved a gun around. I passed out. What more is there to tell?”

Nina sighed. “I bet you could make skydiving boring, you know that?”

“I try.”

“What happened though, really?” she sounded slightly more serious now, and a lot more concerned.

“I’m assuming someone shot her, before she shot me. Is she okay?”

“Inej did,” Nina said. “And yes, she is. I mean, she’s as ‘okay’ as someone can be while having a bullet in them. None of her vitals were hit, luckily. She’ll live.”

“And Jesper? Nikolai?”

Nina started laughing. Kaz assumed that meant they were okay. Or maybe Nina had just become psychotic in his absence. She clutched at her stomach and got her laughter under control excruciatingly slowly. “Sorry, sorry. Jesper’s fine. All thanks to him knowing how to make a squishy hospital stool into a deadly weapon.”

“So, Kuwei?”

“In jail for his sins,” she said dully. Then lit up again. “You solved the case, Brekker. It almost killed you multiple times, and Per Haskell still might kill you for working while suspended. But, you solved it.”  
She was right. It was over. Relief and disappointment warred for dominance in his mind. Usually he was thrilled when he solved something, especially something this big. But, he couldn’t help the unsettled feeling that came over him. Something had been different about these murders from the start.

Inej was right. He’d made it personal. He thought back to their last real conversation, before the hospital. It had been an argument, the same argument they always had.

“Where is Inej?” he asked, pushing himself to his feet abruptly and ignoring how it made his head spin.

Nina glanced around. “She was here a second ago… she was writing a report on what happened today.” she turned back to him and her eyes narrowed. “Kaz. You’re my friend, okay? But Inej is too. If you hurt her--”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t, tough guy.” she leaned in a bit. “I’m talking about the fact that you tend to shield your emotions with work, and you tend to play the hero card and victim card synonymously. I know this case tested your relationship to a stupid degree and I just want you to be careful with how you talk to her.”

Kaz frowned. What did Nina think he was going to say? “Inej doesn’t need you to protect her.”

Nina laughed. “And you don’t think I gave her the same speech?”

Kaz was taken aback for a few moments, and then he just glared. “Thanks for the input, detective.”

He strode towards the stairs, ignoring her floundered call after him.

The roof was warmer than it had been on the anniversary of Jordie’s death. There was less snow. The air was crisp, new. He took a deep breath.

“Kaz?” It was Inej. She was in their usual spot, sitting with her arms locked loosely around her knees.

He slipped down the roof to her, and positioned himself close to her, closer than he usually dared. From this distance he could see water running from her nose and eyes from the cold. She looked a mess, but that didn’t make her any less frustratingly beautiful. Her dark hair, which was usually braided back, was loose and slightly frizzy, framing her chocolate-colored cheeks.

“Did you look for me or happen upon me?”

“Both, I suppose.” it wasn’t really an answer.

It was quiet for a moment, except for the sound of trucks and volvos passing on the highway.

“I think you know what I mean,” she started. The words were seemingly out of nowhere, but he knew where this was going. “I mean, you must. You’re not stupid. You’re a detective, a really good detective in my opinion. So, when I say that ‘I know you’ and that ‘I care too much’ about you, then you must know what I mean. You--”

“Stop.” Kaz held up a hand. “It’s my turn, okay? I…” he scratched at his face. “I don’t want to be with you like that.”

Her face fell.

He took a deep breath. “Not if it means making you unhappy.”

“You don’t.”

“You say that, now,” he said, frustration leaking into his tone. “But I’m not good at this kind of thing.” he gestured vaguely between them with his hands. “I’m good at solving crimes and gathering intel. I get obsessed with my job. I get so deep into it that I can’t drag myself out. If you were with me and you were my partner, I couldn’t live with dragging you down with me.”

Inej didn’t smile, but she looked like she wanted to. “You’re just describing our current relationship, Kaz. I’m not going to suddenly fall down your rabbit hole. I know my limits and I think I know yours pretty well, too.”

He glared, because she wasn’t getting it. She wasn’t getting that he wasn’t a good person. “Can you actually imagine a world where we go to the movies?” he asked. “Or hold hands in public? Or have a picnic together?”

“Our life doesn’t have to be a Hallmark ad,” Inej said. She was actually smiling now, a small smile that made her lips quirk up and her eyes crinkle.

She reached out, just like she had on that night before the first murder. “I don’t mind the holding hands thing though.”

Kaz stared at her dubiously. She stared back, as confident as ever.

And slowly, very slowly, he placed his fingers over hers. They were cold, even through the fabric of his gloves, so he squeezed their hands together tighter and ran his index finger over her wrist. “You’re making a very bad decision right now,” he said quietly, but she made no move to pull away.

“As long as you’re making it with me.”

That night, after Kaz had gone home to his apartment, locked the door, and taken a long shower, he lay down in his bed. He fell asleep the instant his head hit his pillow. He didn't remember his dreams in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I was writing this chapter I actually considered leaving u all on a giant cliffhanger right after Hanne gets shot. Cause I'm slightly sadistic I guess. Anyways, hope you liked it! Hit me up in the comments with any questions or thoughts! <3


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